


On the road again...

by alinewrites



Category: RPS, canadian actors
Genre: Canadian actors RPF, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinewrites/pseuds/alinewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the shooting of Hard-Core Logo, Callum tours with the Heastones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the road again...

One more day on the road with the guys. One more day sleeping on the bus – very little - drinking too much, smoking, smiling at bad puns. One more day with the band playing in an overheated room, fans dancing, jumping, yelling, playing Hugh's game. One more endless party and Hugh getting wasted and high, fucking groupies in the changing room. Never wasted and high enough though that he doesn't retain his cutting, ironic, caustic mind that seems entirely focused on Callum. Callum wonders how the guys aren't exhausted yet, how they manage one more day, one more gig, one more fuck, one more everything they seem to live on.

Callum reads and smokes. He watches the show; watches Hugh prowl the stage like a madman, mesmerized by his manic energy, his provocative stance, his raging voice. Callum learns, tries to picture himself on the stage, how he will have to move, how he will be Billy, bring him to life. He works for the movie that might be – that's how he calls it; the news they get from Noel are contradictory, hopeful and desperate in turn. So Callum pretends it will actually work. He doesn't take notes. He lets the energy fill him; he lets the mood soak him until he knows everyone's little ways, Hugh's every compulsive ritual. Sees him turn from the Hugh Dillon guy he gets on the bus to the crazy front man who eructs and spits and subjugates his audience. He closes his eyes as the deafening

When the party's over Hugh joins him at the back of the bus. That's where they live during the tour, mostly. Nothing says anything about them spending so much time together. Hugh sleeps on the bunck and Callum sleeps on a mattress on the ground. Generally he's smoking and reading when Hugh barges in.

"Fuck Cal," he says. "Do you spend all your time reading?" Hugh says.

Callum shrugs and puts down his book. Another of Hugh's shows is about to start.

Hugh strips, throwing away the sweaty clothes across the room. He rubs himself with a wet towel and sits on the bed in front of Callum, a malevolent gaze in his eyes, his cigarette between his lips. Spreading his thighs, he grabs his cock and starts to jerk off.

Callum puts his book down and watches. Watches Hugh's massive hand stroke his cock roughly, never closing his eyes, a half-smile on his lips, ash dangling from his cigarette. The strokes get faster and faster, Hugh's jaws clenching, the muscles in his body tensing, until he comes. Most of the times Callum dodges fast enough to avoid the spurt of semen. Once though Hugh moves closer at the last second and comes all over Callum's face. Hugh laughs, lets go of his cock, stubs out his fag and get down on his knees to face Callum who is quietly licking his lips. "Yeah, Hollywood. You like it," Hugh says. "Someday you'll ask for more."

Callum smiles. Hugh is a dangerous force of nature – he'll survive everything; he'll try everything, more than once, he'll fuck everyone and everyone gives in to him easily. If Callum surrenders – the day he does – it will be because Callum will consider he waited long enough. Hugh is patient – Callum is more patient still. He grabs Hugh's discarded shirt and rubs his face clean, wipes his hand, one long finger after the other finger. He catches Hugh's gaze on his lean wrists, his arms, his legs, his face.

Catching his gaze Hugh says, "You're lanky. You should eat more, Cal."

Callum lights another cigarette, pulls a deep drag and blows the smoke slowly into Hugh's face.

"Cuntface," Hugh says. It's almost tender, and Callum looks down, a knowing smile on his lips, rubbing his mouth with the back of a finger. Pensive.

Hugh shrugs, musses Callum's hair, kisses his cheek and climbs into the bunk. Callum takes off his clothes under Hugh's gaze, stretches and slips under the sheets. "Night," he says.


End file.
